


digital love

by embellished



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:05:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embellished/pseuds/embellished
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theon's viewing the best the internet has to offer. Robb walks in. Awkwardness ensues. (And then Robb offers to "lend a hand", as it were.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	digital love

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://asoiafkinkmeme.livejournal.com/7940.html?thread=4942340) for the asoiaf kink meme.

It’s possibly the single worst way to spend a Saturday.

Theon slumps in his swivel chair, spins it around once before focusing on the computer screen in front of him. He has to write an essay for English, and as it was due three days ago, he figures it’s probably about time to start. Drumming his fingers against the desk, he sighs heavily. 

The topic of the assignment is the relationship between Nick and Gatsby in _The Great Gatsby_. And really, Theon can’t see the point. He’s read the book – will deconstructing and analysing it really make him appreciate it more? 

All the same, his grade hangs in the balance, and he doesn’t want to have to tell his father that he’s failing English. The look of disappointment in his dear old dad’s eyes – or, worse, the slight sneer like he expected no different… Theon supposes he should be used to it, but he never really is.

So he duly Googles the topic. He scrolls past the first results, past the Sparknotes summaries. The kids in his class are bound to have plagiarised them already, and Theon sees no sense in revisiting an overtapped source. Besides which, they’re all undoubtedly full of the same old boring ideas and the same old boring quotes. Theon wants something different. His teacher is a narrow-minded bitch, and he enjoys little more than scandalising her with controversial points of debate.

He keeps scrolling until he finds a link titled ‘The Homoerotic Undertones of the Relationship Between Jay Gatsby and Nick Carraway’. He smirks. Perfect.

Clicking on the link, he is pleasantly surprised to find a well-argued, cohesive essay with plenty of quotes and sources cited. Copying the whole wall of text, he triumphantly pastes it into a blank document. Assignment complete. He prints it out, closes the word document and is just about to close the website when he sees a few links at the bottom listed as ‘further reading’. He stares at them thoughtfully. It probably couldn’t hurt to take a look, round out his knowledge. So with a little shrug, he clicks on the first link…

And instantly regrets it. About six pop-up ads spring onto his screen, and they all seem to be for gay porn.

Theon wrinkles his nose in distaste. He’s never really bothered to label his sexuality – or even closely examine it, for that matter – but when it comes to porn his tastes are well-defined. The more tits and the less dicks the better. Two dudes banging really doesn’t do it for him.

He closes the windows one by one, with no small measure of irritation – _yes, I really want to navigate away from this page_ – until he comes to the last one. He’s about to shut it down too when his eyes fall on the pictures.

He inhales sharply. They’re stills, promotional shots for a video, and they all feature this one young guy. This one young guy with curly auburn hair and bright blue eyes.

He’s not that much like Robb, Theon tells himself. He’s older, and just somehow… rougher. His face lacks Robb’s wholesome, boyish charm. He’s also kind of skinny, while Robb’s body is all long, lean lines of muscle from all the team sports he plays. But still… Theon leans in close, examining the way he holds himself, the slight quirk of his mouth that’s like a private smile, all for Theon. The resemblance is striking.

He swallows hard, feels something hot twist low in his belly. He shouldn’t be looking at this. He should close the window and get back to his schoolwork and pretend he never saw anything. He should. He _will_ … 

But then, on the other hand, maybe Robb would want to know about his porn doppelgänger. Maybe he’d want Theon to see the video, to critique it or whatever. After all, nobody wants their face attached to bad porn. He’d be doing Robb a service by checking it out for him. A _favour_ , or –

Or maybe Theon just really, really wants to watch it. Maybe he’s desperate for the closest thing to Robb he’ll ever have. 

He squashes that idea down firmly. That line of thought leads nowhere good. That line of thought leads directly to him losing his best friend – the one person in the world he truly relies on – and he can not let that happen.

His fingers hover uncertainly over the mouse. It’s just porn, right? It’s hardly the first time he’s ever watched it.

He licks his lips and casts his gaze around him. His father is out at sea for three months (and thank god for that). His mother is away visiting his brothers for the weekend. Asha is around… but he thinks she went out earlier, to go shopping or see a movie or strike fear into the hearts of the neighbourhood children – any one of which could take her several hours. She won’t be home soon. He’s totally alone. If he watched it, nobody else would ever know.

Making up his mind, he clicks on one of the images. It immediately redirects him to another site with an embedded video, and taking a deep breath, Theon clicks play.

It starts in the shower. The guy – Theon thinks of him as not-Robb – tilts his face into the spray, lets the water run down his skin, back into his hair. Steam clouds up around him as the hot water rains down on his body. His hands travel across his skin, slowly up over his shoulders, down his chest, across his stomach. Theon wonders if this is what Robb does; if this is what he looks like when he gets in the shower after a long football practice, letting the heat soothe his tense muscles. Theon feels his breathing quicken at the thought.

Not-Robb has an impressive erection, blood-dark and jutting up towards his belly. His fingers circle it loosely and he starts to strokes himself. He moves his hand slowly, deliberately, like he has all the time in the world and wants to draw it out.

Theon lets his thighs fall apart, slips his own hand down to the waistband of his sweatpants. He palms himself through the material, then, with one last surreptitious glance around to make sure he really is alone, slips his hand inside.

He lets his movements match not-Robb’s, slow at first and then faster, tighter, more desperate. Not-Robb braces his other hand against the shower wall, his hips snapping forward into his grip. His face is flushed and his mouth is open, panting. Theon knows he must be close, wonders again if this is the kind of pretty picture the real Robb would paint in those instants just before he comes.

Then, suddenly, someone else enters the room. He’s pale, with dark, shaggy hair, and even though that’s where the similarities end Theon immediately thinks of him as himself.

This new guy, not-him, crosses the room and, without pretext or preamble, sinks immediately to his knees. He takes not-Robb’s wrist and pulls it away from his cock, and not-Robb just looks down with naked lust in his eyes as not-Theon presses his lips to the inside of not-Robb’s thigh, the crease between leg and groin. Pulling back, he runs his tongue around the head of not-Robb’s cock, flicking the tip just under the crown. Not-Robb gasps and threads his fingers through not-Theon’s hair, and just like that, not-Theon stops teasing and swallows him down.

He bobs his head up and down, taking him deep, deeper. The water is still beating down on them, but not-Theon doesn’t seem to care. He’s sucking not-Robb’s cock like it’s all he’s ever wanted, fingers leaving indents where they’re gripping into the flesh of his hips.

Theon’s hand is a blur on his dick. There’s still a good ten minutes of footage left, but he’s never going to last. His hips pulse uncontrollably and he feels the heat pooling in his belly and fuck, he’s so _close_. His eyes close and his head drops back and then – 

“Theon?”

The voice is coming from the hall, and Theon recognises it immediately. _Robb_. Heart contracting in sudden, overwhelming panic, he jerks out of his chair. Looking to the door and then back at the computer screen, he just doesn’t know what to _do_. There has to be some way to avert this disaster, but his mind is blank. Scrabbling for the mouse, he pauses the clip, hoping he can somehow maybe head Robb off in the hall.

“Theon, where are you?”

 _Fuck_. He sounds like he’s just outside the room, and Theon’s trapped. All he has time to do is grab his English exercise book off the desk to hold like a shield in front on his crotch before Robb strolls right in.

“There you are. Dude, I knocked for ages, what the fuck?” And he smiles that smile that’s all for Theon.

It lasts approximately three seconds. Or, Theon guesses, about how long it takes him to really see what’s in front of him. His gaze lights first on Theon, then Theon’s book, then on the computer screen. His grin slides off his face as his eyes widen in horror.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he says, hastily averting his gaze. “I’ll come back in ten. Or fifteen. Shit, sorry.”

And he’s just turning to leave, and Theon is starting to hope that maybe he’s escaped the worst of it (and only in his world would having his best friend walk in on him jerking off _not_ be the worst of it), when Robb stills mid-step. Slowly he turns back, frowning as he looks again at the computer screen.

“Is that –”

“It’s your porn double!” Theon blurts out, because _god_ he doesn’t want Robb to say it. “There was a pop-up when I was writing my essay and he was there. They say everyone has one, you know, and I was just. Checking. If it was good…”

He’s fully aware that he’s babbling, and also that his voice has risen a whole octave higher than normal. He presses his lips together, bites down hard on his tongue to shut himself up. He risks a glance at Robb, feeling his heart hammering hard in his chest. Please, he prays, please let him laugh it off and we’ll just pretend it never happened.

Robb’s gazing at the computer screen, his expression unreadable. Theon wants to crawl into a hole and die. He feels physically sick. He’s ruined everything. He’s about to start begging for forgiveness when Robb flicks his eyes to him.

“Do you want to watch it?”

Theon just stares. He has no idea how he’s meant to respond to that. Is it a trick? Obviously he _has_ been watching it, that’s what’s so fucking humiliating.

Under Theon’s blank gaze, Robb flushes a little before adding, “You know. Like, together?”

Theon’s jaw drops.

It’s something they’ve done a few times before – after all, it’s not gay if you keep your eyes straight ahead and don’t acknowledge the other guy’s presence in any way. But that’s only been with girl on girl (and on one delightful occasion, girl on girl on girl on girl). This feels different. Completely different.

Theon licks his lips and swallows hard. He feels compelled to say, “You know it’s, like, two dudes, right?”

He expects Robb to run. He expects Robb to leave and never come back. He doesn’t expect Robb to shrug and say, “That’s okay.”

Theon blinks, swallows, shifts slightly. His erection had waned, but now his dick gives a hopeful twitch again. “Okay,” he breathes, and he’s not sure if he’s just repeating Robb or agreeing or both.

He watches in stunned silence as Robb smiles a lopsided kind of half-smile, then goes to fetch another chair. He drags it up next to Theon’s, and raises his eyebrows expectantly at Theon.

Still not entirely sure he believes what’s happening, Theon returns to his seat and clicks play.

The figures on screen leap back into life, not-Theon still on his knees sucking not-Robb’s cock. His cheeks hollow as he sucks harder, more urgently, and beside him Theon hears Robb’s breath catch.

He determinedly doesn’t look, keeps his eyes fixed straight ahead as on the screen not-Robb scrabbles at the smooth tile for purchase, his whole body shaking as he comes. Not-Theon swallows and then smirks as he pulls off, begins gently licking him clean.

Not-Robb is still breathing heavily as not-Theon gently manoeuvres him around and out of the shower’s spray, so that he’s facing the wall. He keeps licking, his tongue collecting stray beads of water as he mouths over the skin of his ass, until – Theon hears himself gasp – he presses his lips just _there_. Not-Theon flicks his tongue against the puckered skin, and not-Robb groans and wriggles and presses back against him. 

Beside him Theon hears the quick metallic rasp of Robb pulling down his zipper, and the rustle of clothing that means he’s got his hand on his dick. And, fuck, _yes_. Theon shoves his hand back down into his pants and wraps his fingers around himself again. He strokes himself as he watches not-Theon’s tongue curl up and up and – holy crap – _in_. 

Not-Robb keens, and not-Theon suddenly stops, stands for the first time since entering the room. With his foot he nudges not-Robb’s legs further apart, at the same time running his hand over his ass – gentle but firm, possessive. His fingertip lightly circles where his tongue has just been, and then – Theon swallows hard, leans forward in his seat – and then he slides a finger knuckle-deep into him. _Oh god._ Theon can’t help the odd, strangled noise he makes at that.

“Fuck,” Robb groans, and Theon hears him scramble against the chair.

“Yeah,” Theon replies breathlessly, before he remembers that he shouldn’t be listening, should be focusing on the sounds coming from the computer instead.

Not-Robb is moaning like a… well, like a porn star… as not-Theon spreads him open slowly, with first one finger, then two, then three. Theon’s so hard he can barely think, can barely breathe. All he can do is keep watching, wrist pumping faster as not-Theon finally withdraws his fingers. Not-Robb whines as the loss, until not-Theon spins him around again and presses him back against the wall. Grabbing his leg, he hitches it up around his waist and then in one smooth movement, not-Theon buries his cock in not-Robb’s ass. He thrusts again, short and sharp, and not-Robb arches against him, head falling back against the tile. He winds his other leg around not-Theon’s waist, hooking them both at the ankles, and not-Theon grabs him by the hips to support him as he fucks him, hard and deep.

Theon feels hot all over and even as he watches the screen he still finds himself acutely aware of Robb’s presence beside him. He can hear him, ragged breaths and the slick slap of his hand jerking his cock. And, god, he can’t stand it anymore. He has to look, he has to _see_.

He turns his head and – _fuck_ – Robb is staring at him, blue eyes shot to black, his gaze hot and intense. The full reality of the situation suddenly hits him. Robb is jerking off to Theon jerking off to some guy who looks like Robb. Something snaps inside him then. He lunges halfway out of his seat, grabs Robb’s face in his hands and crushes his lips against his.

Robb responds to his kiss hungrily, all tongue and teeth and panting breaths. Theon’s hands slip around to touch the back of his neck, clutch at his shoulders, trying to bring him even closer, to eliminate all space between them. Without ever breaking their kiss Robb clambers off his chair and onto Theon’s. He’s straddling Theon’s legs, knees bracketing his hips, and when he shifts forward his cock slides against Theon’s.

Theon gasps against Robb’s mouth, and he can feel Robb smile in return. Robb’s hand slips between their bodies and curls around Theon’s cock. He strokes just once, down and up, then brings his mouth to Theon’s ear.

“Touch me, please,” he breathes, and it sends shivers down Theon’s spine.

He reaches down and wraps his fingers around the hard line of Robb’s dick, feeling it twitch in anticipation. He rubs his thumb up over the head and Robb groans, low in his throat. Theon leans in, pressing wide, messy kisses to Robb’s neck, and he starts to move. And Robb moves with him.

The angle is awkward and there’s not enough space and their knuckles often graze against each other as they stroke quick and quicker. But, god, none of that matters. It’s still so fucking _good_ that Theon can hardly believe it’s happening at all.

The porno is still playing in the background, forgotten. Theon can’t bring himself to care about not-Robb when the real thing is writhing and moaning in his lap.

Robb’s fingers are working him hard and tight and fast, just the way he likes it, and he can feel heat rolling over his skin, twisting around his spine. He feels like he’s been hard for a week, and he knows he can’t last much longer. Robb twists his wrist and Theon whines, high and needy. And when Robb bends down to bite at the tendon in his neck, suck a spot beneath his ear, that’s all it takes. He comes so hard his body bends off the chair and Robb has to grab Theon’s shoulder with his free hand to keep from being thrown to the floor.

Falling back into his seat, Theon can feel Robb’s hips pushing desperately against his slackened grip. Grinning and pulling him closer again, Theon redoubles his efforts. It only takes a few strokes before Robb is coming too, burying his strangled cry in the crook of Theon’s neck.

It’s several long minutes before their breathing returns to normal. Come is cooling sticky on their skin and Robb awkwardly climbs off the chair. He wipes his hand on his shirt, tucks himself back into his jeans, and then looks up at Theon, something wary in his expression. He looks like he’s waiting for Theon to speak.

Theon’s not sure what to say – what could possibly cover everything he’s feeling right now? – but the silence is starting to weigh heavy between them, so he just blurts out, “That was… unexpected.”

“Yeah,” Robb replies, but there’s still a note of uncertainty in his voice, and his fingers fidget at his sides.

Theon grins lazily, pulls his sweatpants back up. “Fucking awesome though.”

Robb exhales a short burst of laughter, and his lips curve into a bright, beaming smile. “Yeah.”

Neither of them say anything a moment, both just staring at each other across the room. Robb swipes distractedly at the mess on his T-shirt, and Theon knows he’s going to have to lend him something to get home. The thought of Robb wearing his clothes sends a surprisingly strong thrill through his body – half pure _want_ and half something more complicated. 

Eventually Robb looks away from Theon. A muscle twitches in his jaw before he finally says, “I, um. I came over earlier to ask if you wanted to have dinner at my place – with my family – seeing as how your mum’s away.” He pauses, reddening slightly. “But maybe you’d like to have dinner with, uh, just me instead?”

Theon stands, pretends to consider it as he slowly approaches Robb. “Well,” he replies, a grin just touching his lips. “After what we just did the _least_ you could do is buy me dinner. It’s really the only honourable thing to do.”

“Excuse me?” Robb actually sounds offended. “You were the one jerking off to porn of _me_. If anyone owes anyone dinner I think it’s –”

Theon cuts him off. “Robb Stark, shut up. Of course I’ll have dinner with you. Anytime, anywhere – I’ll even pay. As long as it’s with you, I’m happy.”

In that instant Robb grins bright as the sun, and Theon laughs as he pulls him in for another kiss. And as Robb’s fingers spread over Theon’s lower back, drawing him in even closer, Theon has to concede that maybe there’s a secret point to English homework after all.


End file.
